


Aftermath

by her_majesty_wears_jeans



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Dialogue, Episode Related, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Season/Series 01, Tamerlane related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16376669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_majesty_wears_jeans/pseuds/her_majesty_wears_jeans
Summary: ”The first time he'd seen her after Iran he'd told her it was good to have her back. He hadn't realized then that "having her back" hadn't been exactly what he thought it would've been but now he was rather certain they were back on track and Russell was pleased about it.”A response to a fic exchange prompt, some Russell, Bess and Dalton bonding after Iran.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> My take on a prompt I got for the winter fic exchange by thepuppiesinpink.  
> The prompt: "I need to have some scenes with our trio, Conrad, Russell and Bess. There is not enough stuff whit them imo, so I'd love to see some scenes with a little bit of concern for our favorite SoS. Maybe a scene where she meets those two the first time after Tamerlane."
> 
> This took a slightly different a turn but I hope you like it anyway! Russell was a bit tricky to write. Also, the timeline proved to be a real difficulty with this one, so if you know better, please let me know. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Monday 11th of October was in many ways a day of firsts. It was the first day of the week, and also the first time the temperature had dropped significantly below zero the night before, which had meant it was the first morning his wife hadn't let him out of the house without a scarf. That was partly the reason as to why it was the first morning Russell Jackson had ever run late and had thought it more efficient to take the stairs instead of the cram-packed elevator. But even though it was the first time the White House chief of staff arrived at the situation room five minutes late and slightly out of breath, no one seemed to notice. Making his way towards the President, Russell’s gaze swept the room, which made him understand the reason for everyone's lack of interest in him. They all had a bigger absence to be anxious about. It was the first time since her appointment that the Secretary of State Elizabeth McCord was not in the room. 

On Dalton's left, Deputy Secretary Cushing sat in the seat Elizabeth used to. Near the door, partly hidden in the shadows stood some members of the State Department staff - her staff (indeed, they were _her_ staff through and through if his memory and the rather well but not well enough hidden looks of discontent they gave the acting Secretary were anything to go by). Russell remembered countless arguments with Elizabeth that had started from him criticizing her staff's defiance and loyalty. There was indeed a deeply rooted solidarity there, of which Russell didn't know whether to be concerned or envy about. He doubted it would be an issue at the moment, however. Cushing himself was totally oblivious to the dubious looks thrown his way. Seeing him made Russell think about the last time he had worked with the man, which had been right after Secretary Marsh's death. Russell turned his head away, suddenly finding he needed to remind himself that things hadn’t ended as tragically this time. Although it hadn't been that far. 

* * *

“Mister President?” Having given him some time to go over details about Director Munsey’s death with Ephraim in peace, Russell hurried after Dalton, so familiar with both the man and the hallways that led to the Oval Office that he didn’t need to look up from his phone to match his steps with the President. “I heard Bess’s going to come in on Wednesday.”

He hadn’t phrased it as a question, which was why Dalton’s response came as a bit of a surprise. “Yes, that was my understanding as well. She called me last night”, Dalton said, offering an answer to the question Russell hadn’t had time to voice about how the news had reached the President before him. “Let’s let Cushing know he can stand down soon. Elizabeth has things handled from there on.” 

There was a weird tone to Dalton’s voice Russell hadn’t heard before, which made him frown. They’d reached the Oval Office and Dalton sat behind his desk, but Russell turned at the doorway and left the room with a “Yes, sir”, once again concentrating on his thoughts rather than walking.

Being on the verge of a war with Iran, let alone learning that it had been exactly what certain American top officials had schemed had understandably left the whole nation shaken but for some reason nearly losing Secretary McCord had seemed to jar the administration just as much. Russell planned to head to the State Department to inform Cushing he wouldn’t be needed much longer. The idea would’ve made a different man grin, especially after seeing Elizabeth’s key staff members do more or less exactly that upon hearing their conversation.

“I take it preventing the Iranian government from crumbling to pieces didn’t compromise this department”, Russell commented to Elizabeth’s chief of staff. It could’ve been praise but Nadine wasn’t foolish enough to read anything more to Russell’s words considering his tone of voice.

“The fort’s being held down”, she answered simply with a sideways glance to the office they’d just exited, one that Russell wouldn’t have needed to catch to suspect it wasn’t being done by the Deputy Secretary. Sure enough, Nadine continued sincerely. “We’ll be relieved to have Secretary McCord back.”

Russell grunted something in response Nadine assumed was an agreement. Uncharacteristically, he was confident Elizabeth’s staff members would manage to keep the world spinning for a while even without their boss. Nonetheless, everything, and everyone, seemed to be a bit out of place without Elizabeth. And as Matt ran after them with a tall woman whose name Russell didn’t remember on his heels, complaining about a press release the Deputy Secretary wanted them to draft but that to them felt pointless, and Nadine ushered the two into her office with a huff, Russell slipped into the elevator, shaking his head. They still had two whole days more to go. 

* * *

By Wednesday the mayhem both in the State Department and the White House appeared to have lulled. Elizabeth, although not having been there during the worst of it, could sense it in the air as she stepped into the elevator. Things were slowly returning back to normal but above all, everyone was beginning to get used to the disorder and learn how to navigate through it.

She was met with the usual meet-and-greet on the seventh floor. Her senior staff members, even Blake, stood in a neat pack; Matt shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Daisy not really knowing what do to with her hands, Jay standing in the back, fixing her with an intense gaze and a warm smile, Nadine in the front some kind of mixture of the latter two. However, no one was jumping at her with any folder, a surprise diplomatic visit, or with the tablet of doom. Instead, they reminded her of five-year-old Stevie waiting to go to the park. Being adults, they contained their excitement better but Elizabeth knew them well enough to sense the nervous energy they were projecting. Only this time the energy was positive. Her staff was borderline giddy.

Scratch that, there was nothing usual about that morning. 

“Good morning”, she said with a raised eyebrow. 

Breaking the silence was apparently what they’d needed to snap out of the moment. Daisy opened her mouth to say something but Nadine beat her to it by returning the greeting, which was immediately followed by Jay’s “It’s good to see you, ma’am”. Oh, so that was what it was.

“Thank you, Jay”, she replied sincerely, oddly relieved to find they followed her as she began walking towards her office. “I’m glad to see you guys managed to keep things running here without me.”

She didn’t miss the flicker of uneasiness that crossed their faces, one that was quickly replaced with a pointed eye roll on Matt’s part and a coy smile on Nadine’s. Elizabeth frowned but chose not to comment. She waited in silence for a good ten seconds before actually having to ask what was on the day’s agenda, which started Nadine – actually started, Elizabeth saw her jump – but apparently, she would have to kick her staff a bit today to get them back on the roll.

By the time they reached her office Elizabeth had thanked a dozen staff members who were welcoming her back, had had to repeat a question to Daisy twice before getting an answer, and had stopped to wait for Matt who had dropped his pen. To sum up, she had had enough of people walking on eggshells around her. She could not have it at work.

“Everyone!” she turned around to face her senior staff, “You’re excited to have me back, which is very flattering, and your concern is appreciated but we have work to focus on. And please, lose the smirks, okay? They’re creeping me out.”

She was so pleased to find out her remark seemed to have assured them she was fine that she pretended not to notice Blake hovering for a little while longer when bringing her coffee. As soon as he shut the door, however, she collapsed against the back of her chair, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths.

That’s how Russell Jackson found her about ten minutes later when he marched into her office with Blake on his heels.

“Russell Jackson wants to have a word with you, ma’am.”

“Yes, it seems like he does”, Elizabeth muttered, quickly straightening her shirt. “Thank you, Blake.”

She wondered if Russell gave her a weird look but you could never really know with the man. He waited till they were alone, paid no attention to her dry humor but went straight to the point, as usual.

“Bess, we need you to go on air about Iran.”

* * *

 As a former CIA-agent, Elizabeth McCord was hard to read, even for Russell whose close proximity technique typically worked even if everything else failed. However, during the last couple of days, she had been even more of a mystery than usually. There were moments when she acted so like herself that even he had time to notice during their two-minute conversations. The next time he’d see her, however, she’d be uncharacteristically loud or quiet, impatiently snapping at her staff or zoning out with a tortured expression on her face. Russell was slowly growing anxious.

That was why he had been on his way to the State Department before the young man in front of him had even finished his sentence. She’d put a pin on her appearance? What was that supposed to mean? 

He stormed her meeting, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. He wasn’t really interested in her staff at the moment, though. He didn’t have enough patience to wait for Elizabeth to exchange the usual sarcasm-coated jokes with her assistant about his arrival before addressing her. 

“What’s this ‘subject to availability’ BS I’m hearing?”

“Russell Jackson, ma’am.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, Blake”, Elizabeth smiled, gesturing then towards Russell with just a hint of laughter in her voice, “Which BS is that, Russell?”

“ _Face the Nation_ ”, he groaned. “You put a pin in your appearance. I was wondering why.” 

A second passed as Elizabeth considered the request. “Well, since this is the first time I’m hearing about this, so would I.” She turned to face her chief of staff who was quick to meet her eyes, yet looking the slightest bit apprehensive before answering.

“I thought it would be best to leave some flexibility there, ma’am”, Nadine mused, fiddling with her glasses. Russell had never seen the woman shy away from Elizabeth’s gaze but others in the room were quick to look down and away from the Secretary.

Realization dawned on Russell. Her staff had operated behind her back. “Why?” he barked.

Ms. Tolliver turned to look at him but Elizabeth stepped in, saving her chief of staff from an awkward conversation and preventing him from getting the crucial piece of information. “Hey, you don’t get to interrogate my staff, Russell”, Elizabeth said sharply, her tone doing a one-eighty before continuing. “But I think they were just trying to protect me.” She gave a weak excuse, assuring she could do the show but Russell wasn’t content with the response yet. He didn’t trust to take just her word on it, he needed to confirm she was okay to do it himself.

Leaving her office some time later Russell was putting together a list in his head, going over the details related to _Face the Nation_.

What was alarming: "subject to availability".

What was encouraging: it hadn't been Bess’s doing. Also, she'd stood up for her staff like any other day.

What might be a cause for concern: her staff feeling the need to protect her. The “flexibility” had apparently been Ms. Tolliver's idea and she was the most levelheaded one of the lot.

What was good news he could tell the President: she was doing the show.   

* * *

It was the second time that day Russell Jackson had to storm in somewhere, only this time it was a hospital, and frankly, he was worried that if Bess really had had a heart attack, he might be next. He doubted running around Washington counted as cardio in this case.

Unsurprisingly, he ran into Elizabeth’s husband in the waiting room. “Russell, are those for me? You shouldn’t have”, Henry joked.

“How is she?” he bypassed the remark, although judging by the relieved look on Henry’s face, the question was unnecessary and Elizabeth was all right.

“She’s fine.” 

“Good. Then I’ll just go in and convey the President’s best wishes.”

Russell took a step forward but was body-blocked by Henry. He raised an eyebrow at the man whose smile had faltered. “I said she’s fine, Russell.” 

He snorted. “Tell that to the Chinese.” 

“Thank you for coming”, was Henry’s cool response and Russell guessed he was witnessing some of Henry’s NSA background. The man was protecting his family, his wife, there would be no use trying to challenge him. Russell began making his way out. Fine. Henry was doing his job as a husband but maybe he had forgotten that Russell, too, had his job. Of course he was concerned about Bess, but as much as he was worried about the person, he was at least as worried about the persona. The Secretary of State couldn't afford trips to the hospital, not after the mess in Iran. The administration needed to look collected, and this was just about the opposite. Russell turned around to look Henry in the eye.

“Hope you’re right, Henry. I really do. But if she’s not fine, you’re not doing her or your country any favors by keeping it from me.” He handed Henry the flowers with a little more force than necessary. “Give her these for me, will you?”

Russell spent the drive back to the White House staring at his phone, not really seeing the screen. His mind was whirling. The doctors said Bess was fine. Henry insisted the same. Elizabeth was a grown woman, perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She was a former spy, he was sure she’d been in her fair share of tight spots before. Russell had questioned her decision-making and suitableness for the job in the beginning, and they still clashed from time to time but he’d come to trust her in most cases. There was no reason not to trust her judgment now. Yet, Russell couldn’t say whether she truly was all right or if they were all just burying their heads in the sand and refusing to see the problem threatening to blow up in their faces. 

* * *

Conrad Dalton had mostly gotten used to his chief of staff’s nervous habits. Russell was passionate about his work and got restless when things were beyond his control. Conrad understood it. At the eve of _Face the Nation_ , however, Russell was on pins and needles, pacing around the office, and Conrad’s patience was wearing thin faster than usually.

“Russell, sit down.”

They fell into silence then, only the high-pitched voice of a news reporter breaking through the air. Conrad stared at the television screen. Bess was scheduled to be on air in ten minutes, telling her side of the story that was the mess tying their government to a plan to dethrone the ayatollahs. He’d come clean about the ordeal on national television, which had meant he’d become the scapegoat and it was once again up to Bess to do the damage control, to win people over. Conrad didn’t mind, though. He had let it happen. He had failed to control his administration, had failed to keep his people safe. Vincent Marsh was a traitor and so were Andrew and Juliet, and their betrayal stung as much as George’s death. But somehow Bess had gotten caught in the crossfire, quite literally – and that guilt was what was eating him alive.

Her appearance was flawless, as usual. Conrad picked up his phone to text her while keeping an eye at Russell, who wore an expression he hadn’t seen before.

“You okay there, Russell?”

“She can be pretty damn impressive when she wants to”, Russell replied. “To be honest, sir, I wasn’t sure if she was up to this. I’m glad I was wrong.”

Conrad hummed, knowing better than to comment on Russell’s unusual sincerity. He hadn’t been worried about _Face the Nation_ , not really. Bess really was the right woman for the job, he’d known she would handle her duties no matter what. Who he had been worried about was his friend, who would put the needs of the administration before any of her own. He didn’t know how _Elizabeth_ was doing. Sure, she had called him a few times and they’d talked but he hadn’t actually seen her in person that many times after she’d come back.

There was a knock on the door and Elizabeth walked in. “Evening, Mister President. You wanted to see me?”

“Bess. Russell and I were about to have a drink. Would you care to join us?”

Conrad had never really thanked her for going to Iran. After everything that had happened, there didn't seem to be words powerful enough to suit what she'd done.

"Hell of a work, Bess", he told her instead, offering her a glass. Her smile was slightly hesitant but his comment hadn’t triggered anything and at the moment, he took victories where he could find them.

Later, as Elizabeth announced she should call it a night and head home, Russell offered to walk her out, which brought a smile to her face. Conrad had been her friend for ages, and although their dynamic had changed drastically over the years, as could be expected when one becomes the President of the United States, Conrad still treated her as warmly as he used to when she first joined the Company. Russell, on the other hand, was a whole another story. He put work first, no matter what, which was something she respected. He was most certainly rough around the edges and not easy to come along with. However, Elizabeth, being an excellent read of character, knew he had a soft spot for her as well. Russell’s way of caring was just different than Conrad’s. It was making sure she knew how important the person she was meeting with was, it was bursting into her office and stealing her fries, it was calling her in Iran to tell her to keep her head down. Henry had been furious with Russell for showing up at their home so late, especially after what had happened at the hospital, but had calmed down in an instant after hearing what he’d done for Elizabeth.

Thinking of Henry reminded Elizabeth about something she’d wanted to know for a while now. She turned to Russell. “Is it true that Henry really stormed Conrad’s office?”

Russell glanced at Elizabeth. She wasn’t stone cold sober, neither of them was really, but it seemed clear enough her smirk was due to something else as well.

“Well, he only got to the outer office”, he grinned.

His answer made Elizabeth laugh out loud, which took Russell by surprise. He didn’t remember if he’d ever heard her genuine laugh. He decided he appreciated hearing it now.

“I think I might have to go and apologize to the President for him.”

Russell waved his hand. “Henry beat you to it. He called him five minutes after hearing you were accounted for. I was in the room both times. Dalton didn’t even blink.”

“Oh”, Elizabeth smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” They’d reached the elevator and she turned towards him before stepping inside. “Good night, Russell.”

“Night, Bess.”

The first time he'd seen her after Iran he'd told her it was good to have her back. He hadn't realized then that "having her back" hadn't been exactly what he thought it would've been but now he was rather certain they were back on track and Russell was pleased about it.

It had become increasingly clear over time that Elizabeth McCord was valuable, dare he say it, irreplaceable even. Without her, things were quickly falling apart both at the State Department and the White House. The bigger problem, however, was that people were starting to fall apart, too. 

Russell would never tell her that but he kind of hoped she knew.


End file.
